


Of Horrible Pranksters and Redhead Detectives

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Humor, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-09
Updated: 2007-05-29
Packaged: 2019-01-19 03:10:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12401871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: When Fred and George leave the school so spectaculary, they leave a legacy of pranks, and a big mess for their unfotunate sister to clean up. Wanna be pranksters have sprung up all over the school, and some of them have a wacked sense of humor. Its up to Ginny and her three friends to catch these HPs (horrible pranksters)





	1. Names and Plumnierva

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

Disclaimer; I anjail_daemon am in no way, shape, or form JK Rowling. Consequently I take no credit for this story beyond the plot and some meager characters. And hey if she wants them she can have them.

author; This story is a mystery,(shocker, considering what genre its under)and as such this is just the intro. In the second chapter the plot will come into play. Then the real mystery begins. I hope you still enjoy it and thanks for your time.

Bloody Brilliant 

The red sun rising showered the hills in its golden light. The sparse clouds lit up like Christmas lights reflecting its radiance. Ginny Weasley had never been one for sunrises–too bright, and way too early. But she had to admire the view, what with the lake lying crystal-smooth and perfectly mirroring the world above it. With the light breeze gently swaying the branches of the Whomping Willow, you’d never suspect the violent things that tree could do. But Ginny didn’t have time to admire the scenery or sniff the roses, because she was sprinting across the frost-covered lawn after the boy in front of her.

He was Daniel Black, a third year in Hufflepuff, and the elusive Black Card. After Fred and George had left Hogwarts so spectacularly in the middle of their seventh year, their legacy had grown, and there had been hell to pay. Hundreds of copycats had sprung up around the school, all of them trying to make a name for themselves by pulling their own less-than-funny pranks. Things went missing with such regularity that a new board had to be put up just to hold all the lost notices. Spells were set off in classrooms that turned every lesson into chaos. Food and drink were constantly being spiked; most people carried Specoscopes to meals with them to test the food. 

It was pure madness, and the Prefects of each house decided to do something about it. So at their next meeting, the eight of them made a vow to find the pranksters and put an end to this chaos.

It was that vow that had led Ginny to her present occupation of capturing one such prankster, who found it funny to place a black card under the pillow of his next intended victim (always a firstie, the big bully) and hex them the next day in the Great Hall between classes. It had been a tough case to crack, but Ginny and her team had done it.

“Stop!”� Daniel turned his head sharply and stared at her for a moment with wide eyes before whipping that head full of (what else) black locks back around and running that much faster. Great, Ginny, just bloody great. He thinks you’re mental. Now he’s never going to come in easily, she thought, and she put on a burst of speed.

Daniel was running straight across the lawn toward the greenhouses when he suddenly shot off to the right, through the vegetable garden. That wasn't supposed to happen, Ginny thought furiously. He was running for the Forbidden Forest now, probably counting on losing her in the woods and supposing that anything he met in there would be safer than a Prefect who had gone mental.

As Ginny ran past the greenhouses, she heard three voices shout, "Stupefy!" Red beams of light shot above her head and she ducked, screaming, "Stop, it’s me! He's headed for the Forbidden Forest."

She jumped the little posts that supported green vines of tomatoes and peapods. and landed in a mud puddle. She kept going, mud spattered up the back of her favorite robes. That’s it, you’re going down, Dan, she thought, narrowing her eyes at the back of his head. She was catching up now, shortening the distance between them. He must have heard her labored breathing, for he turned his head once more to look over his shoulder at her. That second’s delay was all that was needed. A huge branch swung into the back of his head with a loud crack that rent the morning air, sending him flying backward. He landed in a crumpled heap ten feet away from the agitated Whomping Willow.

"Stupefy," Ginny gasped, pointing her wand at Dan, though it was unnecessary as he was already unconscious. She knelt down next to his limp form, the grass crunching beneath her feet, and checked his pulse. It was beating regularly and she let out a sigh of relief. It would be just her luck if that blow had killed him.

"Did we get him?" an excited voice asked. She turned to see seven students racing toward her. 

"We got him, Is," said Ginny. She grinned up at a blond girl wearing Hufflepuff robes, who beamed back. Isabella Cornwelch was a sixth year Hufflepuff and a master at analyzing her surroundings to find answers.

Ginny shivered as the wind turned icy. A brunette boy crouched next to her and covered her shoulders with a black jacket. "Thanks, Mordred."

"What if it had snowed, Ginny?" Mordred said, shaking his head. "You could at least have put on a jacket." His bright blue eyes met her green ones. 

She just shook her head. "Wouldn't have seemed natural, wearing a coat in the Great Hall."

He sighed. "You're crazy, Ginny." 

Mordred was a seventh year in Slytherin and the best of the group at playing the bad cop when they needed information.

"I thought I had him this time. That was one of my best ones yet," Luna said sadly. Ginny stood and put her arm around Luna's shoulders. 

"Next time,”� Ginny promised. “I can feel it.”� Luna Lovegood was a seventh year in Ravenclaw who, although sometimes rather vague, had some brilliant plans for catching the pranksters. Although her plans were good, they didn’t always go perfectly; but they always caught the pranksters in the end.

Ginny turned to look at the pale form of Daniel Black. "So who's going to carry him back to the castle?" The three girls grinned smugly at the only guy in the group.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the castle, the eight sat around a table in the Prefects’ room celebrating their victory with steaming mugs of butterbeer. Despite the weather, which looked and felt like early winter, the room showed the true time of year. It was thoroughly decked out in Christmas decorations. A wreath hung on the door, holly was festooned about the walls, and mistletoe had been placed strategically above certain areas such as the cozy little loveseat near the roaring fire. Not that Ginny noticed. She was much too busy with her steaming mug of butterbeer to think of the romantic touches around the room. 

The Prefects happily toasted one another as they celebrated another victory. "To Is, whose sharp eyes cracked the case wide open," Ginny toasted in a satisfied voice.

"Hear, hear," the others called out merrily. They clanked their mugs together and took great swigs of butterbeer to seal the toast. 

“To Ginny, who captured the Black Card," Is joyfully toasted next.

"Well, technically the Whomping Willow caught him," Mordred teased, and received a sharp elbow jab in return.

"Technically, you’re a boy in a room full of mistletoe and-hormone crazed girls," Ginny shot back. Mordred looked around warily.

"Point taken."

“I don't think it was the Whomping Willow that caught him. I think it was Invisible Huffsnikles," Luna said seriously, eyes wide as she delivered her solemn conclusion.

"Well, to Huffsnikles, then!" said Is, mediating the situation before Mordred had a chance to comment. He just smirked and raised his mug to meet the others’. 

Just then the door burst open, revealing the jubilant face of the Headmaster. It bounced off the opposite wall and slammed shut again. After a moment there was a hesitant knock. Is opened it and invited the Headmaster inside. Still grinning from ear to ear, he entered the room with a little skip in his step. He approached the table and gave a deep bow which caused his red beard to touch the ground and his glasses to slide to the end of his nose.

“Bravo! It seems that none can escape capture with you Prefects on the job. I must say, if you keep at it there won’t be much work for Mr Filch.”� The headmaster chuckled at the Prefects’ poorly concealed grins at that announcement.

“You mean we could get Filch fired, Professor Dumbledore?”� Mordred didn’t try to hide his pleasure at the thought.

“Oh no, I can’t fire him. He did work for my brother when Albus was Headmaster, after all,”� answered Dumbledore as he accepted a mug of steaming butterbeer. “Thank you, Miss Cornwelch. No, I will simply have to find some other work for him to do."

“Can’t say I didn’t try”� Mordred mumbled into his mug as he took another swig. 

 

“I believe a toast is in order,”� Dumbledore said, raising his mug. “To the, uh–the–um.”� He scratched his beard and looked around at them, bemused. “I’m terribly sorry; I can’t seem to recall this little group’s name."

“We don’t have a name, sir,”� Is clarified.

“Well, you should certainly think of getting one. How else am I to brag about your merits to the other headmasters at our monthly tea parties?”� 

The group was stumped, more by the idea of the headmasters of the wizarding schools having tea parties than anything else.

Luna was the only one who found this quite natural. She said, “You shouldn’t drink tea, Professor. My father just published an article about how the Ministry is spiking tea with plumnierva.”� She smiled her strange little smile as she said this, the one she always wore when she was talking about something so bizarre that the only logical place it could have come from was her father’s magazine. But then again, that was the press for you.

“Let me guess–it turns them into plums,”� Mordred said incredulously, rolling his eyes. Luna, affecting not to notice, began to explain to him exactly what plumnierva did.

Ginny sighed, shaking her head in exasperation. That was when she saw that Is had gone still, her eyes staring, unfocused, at a place far away from where she sat. Her breathing was very shallow. To anyone else she might have appeared dead, but Ginny knew all too well what was happening to her friend. Is often had visions of things that were happening in far-off places as they occurred. She had had them ever since she had started attending Hogwarts. Ironically, she had failed Divination.

Finally Is released her breath in a gasp and her eyes focused once again. She crumpled back into her chair, released from whatever vision she had seen. Ginny caught her as she sagged, looking into Is’ brilliant blue eyes.

“You okay, Is? Take a deep breath and drink some of this.”� Ginny handed her a glass of butterbeer and watched as she took a greedy gulp. “What did you see?”�

“It’s bad, Ginny.”� Is took a deep breath to steady herself. “It’s like nothing we’ve ever dealt with before.”�

“A duck!”� yelled Mordred. He, Luna, and the Headmaster had not noticed Is’ vision, being quite content to talk about the effects of plumnierva. Well, Luna and Dumbledore had been content; Mordred, as always, was another story. “Why in the bloody blazes would the Ministry be turning people into ducks by spiking their tea? That’s far-fetched even for you, Luna.”�

“Well, I think it is a very reasonable theory, and I will personally look into the matter. You know, I’ve always craved a swim in the lake after tea.”� Dumbledore’s brow furrowed. “Actually, I’ve always wanted to swim in the lake, but the Board says its not fitting for the Headmaster.”� He sighed. “Ah, well, I suppose I can always just swim in the prefects’ bathroom.”� His eyes went misty as he thought of it.

“Professor, there’s been an incident.”� Ginny interrupted his musing. “Is, where was it?”� she asked turning to her friend.

“In the Slytherin common room,”� Is said, standing up. She was already catching her second breath. “Sir, Mordred has clearance to get into Slytherin’s common room, but the rest of us don’t.”�

“Ah, yes. Well then, I grant all of you temporary access.”�

The students were already up and preparing to leave. Is cleared off the table, and Mordred and Luna grabbed equipment from a broken cupboard. Ginny was about to get some of her things, too, but the Headmaster grabbed her arm and pulled her off to the side.

“Ginny, thank you for doing this. I know this must be hard for you.”�

“What do you mean, sir?”� Ginny asked, confused by his words.

“That’s an excellent question–you see, even I don’t know what I mean half the time.”� He gave a sad little chuckle. “I can see why everyone thinks I only got this job because of my brother. I know no one thinks very highly of me. Some are probably even betting on how long I’ll last.”� Ginny was suddenly struck by how tired he looked as he said this. “You have allowed me to save face somewhat in the public eye, and I thank you for it. Harry would be proud, too, I imagine.”�

Ginny wrenched away from him, her eyes filled with turmoil before she retreated behind an icy facade. “We’ll never know now, will we?”� She turned to follow the others out the door. As it swung shut behind them, they heard Dumbledore call out one last thing after them.

“Do think of a name, won’t you?”�

End Chapter One

 

    

 

 

 


	2. The Scarlet Letter; N

Disclaimer; Still not mine.

Author; The story finally begins! Heck it even has a plot. 

Chapter Two

The Slytherin common room was already crowded with students. They swarmed to the scene like flies drawn to honey. Ginny looked over the heads of several younger girls, who were giggling cruelly, their cruelty echoing an already hideous scene. 

The Slytherin common room was dark and grey, dank and chilly, with great shadows rearing up from the corners of the room. Proud banners of green and silver decorated the walls. And hung in the middle, a banner of abomination, was a girl. Her long form hung suspended in the air by cold irons clasped around her wrists. As if she were dead, her head lolled forward, and her chest barely moved with the shallowness of her breathing. Her head was a shining crown of bare skin, which threw back the light from its sleekness. Upon that head a red letter was cut; it was still dripping, small puddles of scarlet collecting on the floor beneath. Ginny could only stare as the red letter N was burned into her mind.

A booming sound startled her from her open-mouthed horror. A great grandfather clock declared that the time was four o’clock. Jolted back to awareness, she was reminded that she didn’t have time to stare; she had a job to do, and right now time was of the essence. 

“Mordred, round up some witnesses. Find out who was the first one at the scene. See what everyone knows.”

Mordred didn’t need to be told twice, once he was onto something he was sharpely aware, already switching into police mode. The other two followed his example, Luna bringing out her camera and Is sweeping the room for any trace of evidence. Ginny’s own first priority was to take the girl down—after she got the students out of the room, of course. Especially those gigglers. 

“Everyone listen!” Ginny yelled out over the growing crowd; word was spreading. “This is an official crime scene, not a form of entertainment.” She caught the eye of one of the giggling girls, a bright redhead, who met her eyes defiantly. 

“All of you need to clear out and stay out until further notice. If you have any information about what happened or who did this, please go with Mordred. Anyone found to be withholding information will be severely punished. Thank you for your cooperation in this investigation.” 

Groans met her words as she told them to leave. Unruly Slytherins were bad enough individually, but as a crowd they were pure torture.  By the time she had pushed the last one out the door, her friends had finished their jobs. Mordred had finished speaking with the few people who had come forward willingly and was eyeing the chains that suspended the victim. He planned to hit the weakest link with a breaking spell. Of course the girl was still suspended very high up, so someone had to catch her. The lucky winner was Ginny.

“Ready, Ginny?”

“I guess. Hey, why can’t _you_ catch her?” she asked. Mordred ignored her.

“On the count of three,” he continued.

 “I could perform the spell,” Ginny persisted.

Mordred gave her a cross look. “That would never work.” He went back to focusing on the chains. 

“One.” _Bugger! He needs a good whack on the head_ , she thought.

“Two.” _I hope she’s light. She looks like a stick, so she can’t be too heavy_.

“Three.” _Shoot—there’s the chain, though_.

_Crash!_ The girl and most of the chain fell into Ginny’s waiting arms and drove them both to the ground. Mordred rushed to her side; seeing that she was fine, he just smiled crookedly down at her. Ginny was still pinned under the girl and the chains, which was the only reason she didn’t give him that good whack on the head.

“You all right, Ginny?” Mordred asked, still smilling down at her.

“You are so dead, once I can feel my arms again.” He laughed, throwing his head back. “A little help down here you crazy loon,” said Ginny, still crushed. Mordred bent down and easily lifted the girl and chains off Ginny. In Ginny’s mind, that settled it: he was dead. 

As she got to her feet, rubbing the back of her head, Is and Luna walked slowly over. Neither was smiling, and from the perplexed looks on their faces they didn’t appear happy with what they had. 

“What’s up?”

Luna looked at Is, who stared pointedly back. Neither apparently wanted to be the one to break the news, a very bad sign. 

“Well, we’ve got one trace of magic,” Luna said. A trace of magic was the leftover residue of a spell after it had been cast. Traces were relatively hard to find, but very useful. Depending on the trace, it could often be used to identify the wand that had cast the spell, as well as to determine the type of spell that had been used and how long ago it had been cast.

Unfortunately, there had a major downside: time. Traces weren’t easy to read and could take days of examination to figure out. Though normally traces could last for years, it was different at Hogwarts. At Hogwarts the heavy influence of all the other magics around could corrode a trace till it faded entirely. This process could take as little as a couple of days. At Hogwarts, traces were only useful for a couple of days.

“That’s good,” Ginny said, surprised. Even with their downsides, traces were still the easiest way to catch a prankster. “So what’s the catch?” 

Luna pointed at the grandfather clock. It was ordinary in every way except that it was working. She could see the hands moving in the familiar tick-tock motion. Clocks never worked at Hogwarts.  

“The spell is still active,” Is said, worry showing in her eyes.

This changed everything.

End of Chapter Two 

author; If you actually read this I give you props. Please any advice is appriciated including flames.(lord knows I deserve them). I am frantically working on the next chapter and I hope you'll enjoy it.


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